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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155726">it frightens me to know so well the place i shouldn't go.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid'>LLReid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the ghosts of girlfriends past. [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bloodbound (Visual Novels), Queen B (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anastasia’s Backstory, Canon LGBTQ Character, F/F, First Love, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Female Character, Light Angst, Romantic Fluff, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:20:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by; I Should Go by Levi Kreis.</p><p>~~~~~</p><p>She just wished... that everything was different. She wished Anastasia was not her student. She wished she’d just met her that night in the speakeasy and they could’ve started their relationship the right way, without having to hide like they were doing something bloody criminal... despite the fact that they technically were. How could something so wrong, so looked down upon, how could it possibly feel so right? How could their lovemaking be so beautiful when they weren’t even supposed to be together in the first place? Why would people accuse Ina of manipulating this young woman for sex, and Anastasia of prostituting herself for grades, when that was the furthest thing from the truth? Why was it that some secrets could drown you whilst some pulled you close to others in a way you never wanted to lose?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ina Kingsley/Anastasia Swann, Ina Kingsley/Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the ghosts of girlfriends past. [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it frightens me to know so well the place i shouldn't go.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ina let out a shaky sigh as she took in the sight of Anastasia sleeping soundly in her arms, the early morning sun rising over Martha’s Vineyard shining through the paper thin white curtains over the windows and illuminating her naked body in a hue like sun-warmed honey. Her waist length ginger hair was lit up a thousand different tones of copper and gold, all of them glittering softly, creating a masterpiece that rivalled the most colourful Van Gogh paintings for her eyes alone.</p><p>She really was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.</p><p>She just wished... that everything was different. She wished Anastasia was not her student. She wished she’d just met her that night in the speakeasy and they could’ve started their relationship the right way, without having to hide like they were doing something bloody criminal... despite the fact that they technically were. How could something so wrong, so looked down upon, how could it possibly feel so right? How could their lovemaking be so beautiful when they weren’t even supposed to be together in the first place? Why would people accuse Ina of manipulating this young woman for sex, and Anastasia of prostituting herself for grades, when that was the furthest thing from the truth? Why was it that some secrets could drown you whilst some pulled you close to others in a way you never wanted to lose?</p><p>Another sigh escaped from the back of Ina’s throat as she watched her sleeping with rapt fascination, the sides of her fingers gently stroking at her sweetly flushed cheek. She loved her... and wasn’t entirely sure how much longer she could go on pretending that she didn’t. She loved her enough to risk everything— to want to risk everything for the slim chance that she might be granted the privilege of waking up this way for the rest of her life.</p><p>She’d imagined herself in this position so many times before. We create the illusions we need to go on, and the peace that the idea of waking up in Anastasia’s arms had always brought her was unparalleled. The rest of the world far away. Just the two of them, where they were untouchable... where it was possible to pretend they were someone other than who they were, and if they pretended long enough... maybe they could come to believe it.</p><p>Tears ached behind her eyes... instead of holding them back, she tried to adjust to the dawn, letting the few tears fall where they may, because it was morning; it was morning and there was so much to see. She wondered once again, how could anyone say this was wrong? Why was she feeling so damn guilty when they were both consenting adults? She swallowed thickly, holding onto that fragile slice of hope and keeping it close, remembering that in each of us lay good and bad, light and dark, art and pain, choice and regret, cruelty and sacrifice. We were each of us our own bit of illusion fighting to emerge into something solid, something real. She knew that part of being human was learning to forgive yourself that. She knew she must remember to forgive herself for breaking the standards society had set. Because there was an awful lot of grey area to work with. No one could live in the light all the time. No one could possible meet the standards of perfection modern society had set to govern people’s behaviour.</p><p>Sometimes she just wanted to burn down all the rules and start over.</p><p>She was old enough to know that this world was only ever as fair as you could make it for yourself. But how did you fight an enemy who never fought fair? Didn’t you have to break the rules to win against the unattainable standards society had set? Everyone in the whole world was dying trying to play by the rules. A little, every single day. Ina planned to make her life count, somehow. She planned to make herself happy. To love herself, regardless of how hard the world made it to do so. To hell with anyone who thought this was wrong, she thought. To hell with them all. Anastasia made her happier than the rest of the world combined.</p><p>As Anastasia began to stir, Ina wiped the drying tears from her face and gently caressed her cheek, her breath arresting when her eyes flickered open. Somehow, if it was even possible, the shade of blue was all the more piercing in this light. Even groggy, she felt like she was boring down to her soul.</p><p>“Good morning, beautiful,” she murmured quietly, whilst tracing the pad of her thumb across her cheekbone.</p><p>“Malyshka... dobroye utro,” Anastasia mumbled as she rubbed at her eyes, her voice somehow the sweetest thing she’d ever heard as she groggily spoke her native tongue. She hadn’t the slightest clue what that meant, but assumed it was ‘good morning’ or something similar in either Russian or Kazakh — she wasn’t sure at all which one she’d spoken. This woman really was far too adorable. “Ya lyublyu tebya bol’she vsego na svete.”</p><p>“What does that mean?,” she whispered, smiling softly.</p><p>“Maybe one day I’ll tell you,” Anastasia smiled. “How long have you been awake?”</p><p>“Lost track of time,” Ina breathed as she drew her in for a gentle kiss on the lips. </p><p>“Mhm.” Anastasia nestled further into her arms, tangling their legs together beneath the blankets, and Ina practically spontaneously combusted at the sweetness of the gesture. “My feet still hurt from yesterday. I hate high heels. Walking in high heels for ten hours a day should be forbidden by the Geneva Convention.”</p><p>She chuckled softly, making a mental note of the fact she became even snugglier than normal and her accent thickened ever-so-slightly when she was sleepy. “You may be the only person I’ve ever known who thinks about the Geneva Convention at this hour.”</p><p>Anastasia let out a sleepy giggle. “I’m letting you see how weird I am—“</p><p>“And it’s wonderful,” she interjected. “You’re wonderful.”</p><p>Her blue eyes widened and her cheeks immediately flushed pink, like she’d never heard anyone say that before. Like she was somehow completely oblivious to the fact that her nerdy interests and dorky little quirks were endearing and only added to her obvious outward beauty. There wasn’t another person alive who Ina wanted to listen to talk passionately about Lord of the Flies in the wee hours of the morning, or who could quote hundreds Tolkien lines at the drop of a hat in regular conversation, or who shunned popular music so vehemently only to listen to the instrumental versions of the songs. She was so wonderfully weird... which was incredibly refreshing in a place like Belvoire.</p><p>Anastasia made her breath catch in the back of her throat with only her thumb brushing slowly across the lower edge of her lip, tracing the faint scar. But it was as if time slowed and the sweep of that thumb below her mouth took forever. Magic didn’t exist, but this gesture alone held such magic, Ina could scarcely breath. She pulled her hand away slowly, aware of what she’d done. But her touch lingered.</p><p>“I—,” she cleared her throat, “That’s— Um— Thank you. So are you.”</p><p>“Flustered you again, did I?,” she teased.</p><p>Anastasia groaned and started to giggle nervously as she hid her face in the crook between Ina’s neck and shoulder. “Nobody has ever called me wonderful before. Ever, that I can remember, and especially not for being myself. So... yeah. Consider me flustered.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>The redhead nodded. “I’ve been called hot and sexy since I was a teenager, and attention has been drawn to my looks since long before that... and I think that’s why most of the people I’ve been with in the past were with me. I’ve never— A relationship that isn’t just physical is new for me.”</p><p>“I don’t know who you’ve been dating in the past, but they’re idiots,” she concluded. “And, yes, that is my scientific opinion that I achieved my PHD in order to build.” That startled a laugh out of Anastasia and Ina kissed her forehead before continuing, “It’s true that you’re incredibly hot and sexy, but you’re also so much more than that.”</p><p>“Well now my flustered is flustered,” the younger woman squeaked as she tried to pull the covers over her face, only to be stopped by Ina caressing her face. She let out a shaky breath, those big blue eyes scanning her face — almost as if she couldn’t quite believe Ina was being serious — until they found whatever it was they were looking for and the sweetest smile settled on her lips. “I— thank you for saying that. Really. Even in my childhood I was only valued for my looks. I was ‘the pretty one’ in my family and that’s all I was, so that’s— um— this is really the first time anybody has said something like this.”</p><p>Ina rested her brow against hers and whispered, “Then I will remind you everyday.”</p><p>“You don’t have to—“</p><p>“I want to... and you deserve it.” She kissed her lips slowly and continued, “I might not know the ins and outs of what happened in your childhood, but I can see that you were born into a family that didn’t always appreciate you... and possibly even exploited you.” Anastasia nodded and bit down on her bottom lip. “It’s my job to make sure that you know you deserve more than that. To make sure that you know you’re appreciated for more than just the way you look.”</p><p>“Ina...,” Anastasia breathed, genuinely driven speechless. “I— just kiss me.”</p><p>A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she took her lips on hers. She loved her more than she’d ever loved anyone. She was so in love with her. Had always loved her, from that first conversation at the bar. And it seemed to her that Anastasia loved her, too. It was funny how the world could change on a dime like that. One minute, you were some poor chump pining after a girl you thought didn’t feel the same way about you, and the next, you were lying together, bodies entwined, chest to chest, so close you could feel her heartbeat under her soft skin. You were looking into her eyes and seeing a whole future written there that you’d never dared imagine could be in the cards for you.</p><p>Being with her like this, it was like she was floating inside her skin. She could go on floating like this for days. Right now, the real world with its heartbreak and disappointments and judgemental attitudes was just a pulse against the protective membrane they’d nestled themselves into. It was somewhere outside them, waiting.</p><p>“Should we order breakfast?,” she asked her as the broke apart.</p><p>“I usually skip breakfast,” Anastasia giggled.</p><p>Ina sighed and gave her a playful smack on the backside, which made her start laughing harder. “No sunscreen. No breakfast. Anastasia Swann, this is exactly why you should be thankful you’re dating an older woman. You wouldn’t survive your twenties, otherwise. We’re getting breakfast.”</p><p>Anastasia rolled her eyes, though her affection was practically oozing from her pores. “Yes, I’m only attracted to older women because they wear sunscreen and eat breakfast. That’s it exactly. It has nothing to do with the sophistication or the intelligence or the way a woman over thirty carries herself. It’s all in the sunscreen.”</p><p>“No breakfast,” she muttered below her breath whilst reaching for the room service menu on the nightstand. “Next you’ll be telling me you don’t drink water—“</p><p>“I’m trying to get better at that, I swear,” giggled Anastasia. “I learned my lesson after I fainted—“</p><p>“When did you faint?”</p><p>“Like two weeks ago but it was only for like a few seconds because I forgot to drink water for two-and-a-half days— I’m pretty chill about the whole thing so that was why I didn’t tell you or act all dramatic by going to the ER.”</p><p>She blinked. “How is that even possible?”</p><p>“Don’t laugh at me.” Anastasia sighed and pulled the covers over her face. “I was having too much fun studying.”</p><p>Of course she would say something like that. Brilliant girl, that she was. “What were you studying that was so exciting you forgot to drink water?”</p><p>“I’m teaching myself to speak Japanese from some really old books from, like, the 80s or something that I found in the library!,” she beamed. She was clearly very proud of herself... and it was the most adorable thing Ina had ever seen... even if she did just speak of the 80s like they’d happened a hundred years ago. “I’m so over the subtitles in Anime’s.”</p><p>She was one of the few students at Belvoire who seemed to be on a mission to read every book in the library, even when they were irrelevant to her classes. It was why so many of her colleagues liked her so much. She seemed to know that her library card was a passport to wonders and miracles, glimpses into other lives, religions, experiences, the hopes and dreams and strivings of all human beings, and it was this passport that opened our eyes and hearts to the world beyond our front doors. She’d even held some incredibly stimulating conversations with her about how that was one of our best hopes against tyranny, xenophobia, hopelessness, despair, anarchy, and ignorance.</p><p>“Did you walk around sunburned, starved, and dehydrated all the time before you met me by any chance?,” Ina asked despite the fact she was beaming with pride and excitement. Had she really found someone who shared her belief that a mind was not a cage? That it was a garden. And it required cultivating.</p><p>Anastasia nodded. “Pretty much... but in my defence, there are so many exciting things to be doing that tend to distract me from chores like eating and drinking. Who wants to sit and eat pancakes when you could be out exploring the world or becoming so engrossed in a good book that you kind of forget you even exist for a while?”</p><p>“Ah, so life is so exciting that taking measures to sustain it has become tedious at the grand old age of twenty-one?,” she teased.</p><p>“Precisely,” Anastasia nodded.</p><p>“Aren’t most people your age currently making suicide jokes on the internet?”</p><p>“I’m not most people.”</p><p>All Ina could do was laugh, completely awed by her uniqueness. It was a giggle full of high spirits and merry mischief, proof that we never really lost our girlish selves, no matter what sort of women we became. No matter how much time had passed since our hearts had felt as light as a child’s.</p><p>How could she not be amazed at all of the small, simple, conscious acts of living Anastasia found so enchanting in the mundane? Her entire outlook on life was like a sudden defense against the dying most people did every day. She lived in the moment, as if her life were one long party that never had to stop as long as she kept the good times going.</p><p>On the journey from New York she had read this great quote in the latest issue of Insider, where an anonymous writer was talking about true intimacy, and they were saying that it was the willingness to be vulnerable and to be found out. That’s what she felt that Anastasia did when they were together. She wasn't pretentious, and despite some obvious emotional scars she hadn’t yet worked out, she wasn’t hiding her heart. She wanted to be found out.</p><p>Every moment with her felt like those moments when you went to a party and you were standing around for a long time, going, ‘I don't fit in here, what am I going to talk to these people about?’ And everybody was getting drunk, and then you find this one person, and you end up sitting in some corner talking about all these arcane things.</p><p>And then before you know it you're having a conversation about the meaning of life and it's four o’clock in the morning. That kind of feeling, that kind of intimacy — she felt like that's what she got from Anastasia.</p><p>“No,” she murmured, gazing at her in a way that made her feelings for her as plain as the nose on her face. “You certainly aren’t most people.”</p><p> </p><p>~ fin.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The Russian words Anastasia speaks at the beginning is her wishing Ina good morning and calling her “baby girl”, followed by her telling her she loves her more than anything in the world. ❤️</p></blockquote></div></div>
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